


A Heart Full of Love

by lilywithablackimpala



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, Les Misérables References, M/M, Napping, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7446136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilywithablackimpala/pseuds/lilywithablackimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil attempts to serenade Carlos with Les Mis. Lots of fluff. Cecil spends  the night. First fic, if anyone actually reads these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart Full of Love

Cecil looked up at the pleasant two story house with a smile that would read to an onlooker as ‘look at me, I’m so clever’ had there been any onlookers besides the mandatory Sheriff’s Secret Police official. Cecil slipped along the side of small house to the backyard where he could see a light illuminating Carlos’ bedroom window. Perfect.  
He got down on one knee like a proper gentleman, the grass whistling quietly in protest to his placement of knee. He slung the ukulele off his back. He had been debating which song he should serenade his boyfriend with. He finally decided on A Heart Full of Love from the musical Carlos had shown him two weeks ago. The DVD player had spit spiders during dramatic moments of the musical to the dismay of Carlos, which was the only thing keeping Cecil from sobbing. It’s a very sad musical.  
He strummed a chord on the ukulele and started loud enough to be heard in a suitable key,  
“A heart full of love  
A heart full of song  
I’m doing everything all wrong  
Oh god, for shame”  
The silhouette of a beautiful man who was otherwise indiscernible in the lowlight appeared in the window. The silhouette ran from view, and Cecil’s face fell. He had hoped that Carlos would’ve at least enjoyed the music for a while. Cecil, noticeably disheartened continued:  
“I do not even know your name  
Dear Monsieur  
Won’t you say?  
Will you tell?”  
Cecil looked down, and glanced up at the window, and he realized he hadn’t planned for the duet. He turned away, face flushing, when he heard the large window go up, and Carlos reappeared at the window, a brilliant smile now visible. He had grabbed his guitar, and chimed in, not in Cossette’s soprano of course, but more of a low alto,  
“A heart full of love  
No fear, no regret”  
Cecil responded eagerly, his shame melting in the warm desert night.   
“My name is Cecil, my love!”  
“And mine’s Carlos”  
The other responded, laughing, as they childishly altered the song to accommodate their own names, regardless of the rhyme scheme.  
“Carlos, I don’t know what to say”  
“Then make no sound”  
At this point, Carlos had opened the window all the way, and was sitting, his legs hanging out, and the guitar on his lap. The melody moved beautifully through the two men, and into the arid night and its stars, its moon, and the lights above the Arby’s.   
“I am lost” sang the young radio host.  
“I am found” responded the scientist.  
“A heart full of love”  
“A heart full of you”  
“A single look and then I knew”  
“I knew it too”  
“Not today”  
“Everyday”  
“For it wasn’t a dream,” they sang in unison, “Not a dream, after all!” As they reached the final verse, Cecil slung his ukulele over his shoulder, swung his arms back, and flung himself up towards the window, the gravity in the small town being as inconstant as ever. His shoes gripped the bottom of the window frame while his hands gripped the sides. He kissed Carlos right on his dark lips, who, in turn laughed, pushed his guitar back into his bedroom, and then pulled his charming boyfriend inside. Cecil knew that song was meant for three people, but he was glad that the faceless old woman who secretly lived in Carlos’ home had not joined in as Eponine. Perhaps she had, they were too caught up in their own world to notice.  
They were laughing, and Carlos kissed Cecil again and again, before Carlos finally broke away, smiling.  
“Wow, uh,” he chuckled, “Of all the things that I expected tonight, that was definitely not one of them.” Carlos sighed happily and led the way downstairs to the kitchen. When there, he poured red wine into two clean coffee mugs, and handed one two his boyfriend.   
“You know, you are just too damn cute at times,” Carlos said, sipping his wine, “You know, next time I might not let you in unless you present a cute romantic gesture first.”  
“So I’ve raised your expectations of me forever. I knew this would end badly,” Cecil joked, biting his lip. “I’m really glad you showed me that musical.”  
“Your DVD player hated it though.”   
“Yeah. Technology. That’s why I stick to my simple microphone.”   
“Hey, I tried to teach you how to use a laptop.”  
“Nooooo. It’s confusing.” At this point, Cecil yawned louder than Khoshekh, adrenaline from his earlier performance gone.   
Carlos laughed, and took the mug for him. He walked to the downstairs closet, and grabbed some fleece blankets. He motioned for Cecil to follow him, and Cecil smiled and obeyed. Carlos sat on the couch and Cecil sat next to him. Carlos put on a quiet TV show that he had liked before he came to Night Vale. The two sitting upright soon morphed into both of them sprawled shirtless on the wide couch, Cecil with one hand under his head as a pillow, the other holding Carlos’. Carlos’ free hand, meanwhile, traced the violet tattoos on his partner’s back, making Cecil murmur, half asleep.   
“You know, before I met you,” Carlos confessed, “I never liked romantic songs. I guess I just couldn’t relate.”  
Cecil made such a happy, sleepy noise that Carlos was obliged to kiss his boyfriend’s neck. He pulled the fleece blanket up a little farther to their shoulders, and joined his lover in sleep.

 

Carlos moved carefully around Cecil’s still, sleeping form the next morning, and made his way to the kitchen. He turned on some music on the radio, and started making a batch of gluten free pancakes, cooking sausages, blueberries, and imaginary cornflakes. He didn’t understand the whole imaginary corn thing, but Cecil liked it, so Carlos wouldn’t argue with it. As Carlos finished preparing the two plates, a very ruffled Cecil walked into the kitchen, his button down shirt askew.   
“Morning, Sunshine,” Carlos called.  
Cecil yawned, and he got out a poorly articulated but understood, “Morning, my perfect Carlos.”  
Carlos set the plate before his sleepy boyfriend. Cecil smiled, and Carlos sat down next to him. They ate in pleasant silence for a few minutes, and after a while, Cecil finished his food and leaned on his hand and looked into Carlos’ eyes quietly. Carlos chuckled, and kissed him on the forehead. They mutually admired the others’ beauty and company until a voice came on on the radio announcing the time and the planned programming, and Cecil jumped in his seat.   
“Oh my god! The radio station! I’ve got to go! I’m sorry Carlos I’m being rude, you’ve made me a lovely breakfast and let me stay at your house and now I’m rushing out like an imbecile…” his voice grew quieter as he ran into the living room to fix his shirt and put on his waistcoat and purple bow tie and when he came back in the kitchen he was still going strong, “… I had a lovely time and you’re a wonderful singer, and I really liked that show you showed me,” he stopped in front of Carlos, who had stood, but hadn’t moved from his position. Carlos now fixed his boyfriend’s bow tie, and kissed Cecil. Cecil looked very happy for a moment before urgency passed over his face again, and he ran out the door, skidded to a stop at the door, and yelled, “I love you!”   
Carlos yelled, “I love you too, Ceec!” The other man ran out to the road, and Carlos looked down and smiled. Cecil made him so happy. He turned to the breakfast dishes.   
The radio played its usual programming, and Carlos turned it up when Cecil came on ten minutes later, out of breath. The radio show host sat and panted at his mic for a few moments, evidently having run all the way there. He read the news and community calendar once he had composed himself, regular news for Night Vale, and smiling at his boyfriends’ happy voice. When the weather came on, A Heart Full of Love came on. Carlos smiled and sat on the counter, sipping his coffee. When the final chord ended, Cecil’s voice came back on.   
“Night Vale,” he began, “That last song was dedicated to my wonderful Carlos. And although we didn’t have explicit permission to play that song, as always, copyright laws don’t apply on every fourth Thursday. I love you Carlos. Have a nice day at work!”


End file.
